Blood Red Moon
by RnbwXSprinkles
Summary: What really happened when Remus was underground with the werewolves?
1. A Grisly Culture

Chapter 1: A Grisly Culture

I was packing everything, again, into the ratty old suitcase that had held my belongings since I received it for my 17th birthday. Sirius had given it to me. It was as much a tease as it was a friendly truth. It was engraved in gold with the (now peeling) words: Professor R.J. Lupin. _Don't think about that._ I told myself sternly. I couldn't let my thoughts about Sirius get in the way. I had to think of a way to keep from being recognized.

I sighed, glancing at the calendar. Today was July thirtieth; tomorrow was Harry's birthday. Walking over to the dirty window, I stared out of it from the study in Sirius' house. The room was as grim as any other, air thickly clouded with dust and grime that clouded up from the once rich carpet at my every step. Last year, Dumbledore had sent my to the werewolves to act on behalf of the Order and gain support as well as information on what the werewolves were doing.

At first, I simply kept a low profile, learning their ways, and trying to copy them and adapt to this new culture before really attempting to communicate. Even if someone got suspicious, once I did start talking, they'd just figure I was shy and went through hardships before seeking safety with my own kind. Finally, I believed I was ready. The first person I really talked to was a young boy.

"_Sir? Are you lost?"_

Remus looked up from the small, faded street sign nailed haphazardly to the trunk of one of the trees making up what the werewolves called the Hall. He had been wondering about the sign for quite some time. "Itzal's Den" it read. Remus supposed this meant the underground city that he had heard people in the upper village talking about, but he couldn't find an entrance And so, baffled, Remus had recently settled with returning to this very spot each day and staring, idly at the street sign.

"_Yes, I was wondering, would you happen to know how to enter Itzal's Den? You see, I'm new here, and don't quite know my way around."_

"_Sure! It's over here!" The boy said happily, dragging Remus by the sleeve of his shirt (werewolves, determined to hatefully set themselves away from wizards, did not wear robes). Remus stared, amazed as the boy led him through a tunnel covered in all directions by the low, full branches of an evergreen tree._

"_Do you live with your parents?" Remus asked softly._

"_No," the boy said, still leading Remus through the tunnel, "but I don't need them. Fenrir raises all the orphans. He is our father. He trains us too. Even the adults and non-orphaned children put him above everything else."_

_Remus was quiet as they walked on._

"_Here we are!" Remus stepped out of the tunnel. Just a few paces away from the tunnel opening was an arched gateway. Beyond that lay a huge underground city. It was lit with millions of lamps lit up the city as well as the candles of the houses carved into the clay walls of the huge, man-made cavern. Between the walls were houses made of stone or the same clay-like dirt from the walls, forming streets bustling with crowds of people._

"_Thank you," Remus said to the boy, but looking around, Remus saw that he was already gone. Remus had immediately reported the werewolve's cult-like actions to Dumbledore._

As the year passed, I had grown accustomed enough to the painful way of the werewolve's lives, and stayed there to learn more about what part Fenrir planned to take in the growing war. Unfortunately, through the whole year, the only other information that came up was that Fenrir was a Death Eater, which was already highly suspected.

Then there came to night at Hogwarts. I had been reached by owl from the order about the attack and had rushed to help Hogwarts. The others and I had thought at first that we had gained a victory, but then the news reached us that while the school remained standing, Dumbledore had died.

Still feeling a need to act upon Dumbledore's orders, however, I was preparing to return once again to the werewolves. There was nothing left for me at Grimmauld Place, I had the feeling that not even Harry would be coming here. Even if he did, he wouldn't need to see me moping around. I sighed as I left the window and exited the study, clicking my suitcase shut. My biggest fear being the possibility of being Fenrir recognizing me from the fight at Hogwarts.

I managed to survive the first few months of my stay. I hadn't taken the wolfsbane potion in so long, that I sometimes feared for my life. Every full, moon I not only became vulnerable to, but also controlled by a wolf desperate to rip me out of himself and stay wild, free, and blood-thirsty forever. But I managed, I always did, though sometimes I was uncertain if I should be grateful for such survival, for it only left more full moons to plague my future. However, besides my pain-induced morbidity, all seemed well. Until I was summoned.

The guard led me through the dusky hall of trees. The werewolves didn't bother building houses in the above ground section of their realm (for lack of a better word), knowing that it would just end up being destroyed. Instead, they preferred to build simple huts that took a mere day's work to build from the extra wood of the forest.

The hall was simply trees planted close together, forming a long, leafy green hallway. At the end of the hall was a tunnel leading to the underground where the bulk of the city, including the main palace was located. But, instead, I was led to the other palace. It was no exception to the rules of building above ground. It was simply a larger hut with a throne and more windows than most It was the one completely unopened to the public. The one saved specially for Fenrir's... amusement and revenge saved for those he viewed as enemies or criminals.


	2. Werewolf's Revenge

Chapter 2: Werewolf's Revenge

A/N: Finally, the second chapter is finished. I am aware that I switched to third person when I came to the part of the story that had Tonks and Harry. It just seemed to work better for some reason since they aren't really the main focus of the story. Also, I added to the last chapter that the day Remus left was the day before Harry's birthday. Anyway, enjoy and please review!

The guards opened the double doors, stepping back and beckoning for me to enter. I stepped forward, walking steadily, though admittedly faltering as I heard the doors slam shut behind me, the guards watching carefully. I shuddered as I stopped in the front of the throne; my head down as was customary. There was no turning back. My fate was sealed. I looked up at the soft sound of footsteps.

"Well, well, well. Remus Lupin." I could do nothing but stare as my wolf's creator (and therefore, in a way, mine) stepped down from his chair and slowly approached me.

"I know who you are Remus Lupin," he said, finally reaching me, his voice little more than a threatening whisper as he moved closer, now touching me. "A traitor, one who dares mingle with wizarding kind," he said, holding me, as I instinctively let myself fall limp in his arms, acting on the instinct to not challenge his control. He was my pack leader, my better. Caressing me dangerously, face buried in my neck, his lips traced my veins lustfully. Then, in one swift, startling movement, he brought pain.

I howled in agony, falling to the floor, convulsing, back arching in pain as I felt his bite, once again, at the base of my neck. Still, he held on, lapping at my wounds, relishing in the taste of my blood once more as it seeped out of my body, only to bury sharpened fangs into them again, penetrating them over and over.

Swiping his hand across my mutilated neck, he spread my blood across my chest, painting my cheek, shoulder and collar bone with it, claw-like fingernails scrabbling purposefully at raw flesh. Blood was everywhere, spurting out of my neck, dribbling through the corners of Fenrir's mouth. It was on him, it was on me, it was everywhere. We were a scene of red horror, connected by the thick, sticky substance.

I struggled for consciousness, writhing all the while, feeling the weight of him on me. I was thrashing, striving to get him off me, to stop this torture. But for nothing, he would always still be there. Kissing up and down my neck, probing its inner tissue and vein, biting punishingly, demonstrating to me that he was the pack leader and I, as his pup, had over-stepped my boundaries.

"Next Moon, Remus Lupin," He said through a muffled, inhaled breath, "Be in the Clearing." He left me, slowly, biting still at my neck, as he got up. With one last lick, he was gone, and I was left on the smooth, dirt floor, panting, throat hoarse from screaming, longing for the darkness to come and take me.

"Remus?" Harry, called, heedless of Mrs. Black's inevitable shrieks. Dropping his bags on the floor just beyond the front door, Harry walked up the stairs, consciously ignoring the house-elves' heads. He walked down the hall past the neatly lined, but dusty, row of portraits and magical, moving pictures, poking his head into various doors in turn.

"Remus?" Rolling his eyes, Harry realized that even if Remus had been there, he wouldn't have been able to hear over Sirius' mum. Harry stomped over to the curtains. After a tussle that lasted for about fifteen minutes, the curtains were finally closed. Harry stepped back, slightly fatigued and admittedly worried. Surely Remus would've heard the racket and come to help? He wouldn't even had needed to look for the source. Everyone knew about the dreaded upstairs portrait, Remus especially.

Grabbing his bags from downstairs, Harry started to settle himself in his usual room, feebly convincing himself that Remus was fine, that he probably was just out somewhere. Besides, it wasn't like Harry was expected at Grimmauld Place. He wasn't even sure if anyone besides Dumbledore knew that Harry no longer had to stay with the Dursleys after his seventeenth birthday, which was, coincidentally, today. _Happy Birthday to me,_ Harry thought, glumly.

After a few anxious minutes, Harry heard the front door open downstairs. Breathing a sigh of relief, Harry started downstairs. But his nervousness heightened once again as he saw that the figure in the doorway was that of Tonks and not Remus.

"Wotcher, Harry." Tonks said, winking in her usual way, "Didn't expect you here. Groceries." She explained, misinterpreting Harry's silence and lifting up the bags for him to see.

"Tonks," Harry said grimly, "Remus is gone." Seconds later, the bags tumbled to the floor.

I awoke in the dark. As my eyes grew accustomed to the dark, however, I began to discern a dirt wall. Looking around, I noted the metal door with a barred window. I was their prisoner. There was nothing I could do but wait for the next full moon.


	3. Pearl White to Red Shadows

Chapter 3: Pearl White to Red Shadows

A/N: Like Harry and Tonks, anyone else besides Remus will be told about in third person. Almost as if Remus is writing about it.

If I had been anyone else, I would have lost track of time. However, werewolves, feeling the pull of the moon know where it is and therefore what time of day it is and what time of the lunar calendar it is. Two days after my "meeting" with Fenrir would be full moon.

It was on that last day that fear settled in my stomach, causing me to feel no longer hungry (as I hadn't been fed at all for those two days) but as full as if I had eaten too much and needed to retch. Grinding my teeth together, I forced down the bile surging desperately up my throat.

I was sitting in the darkest corner of the small, dirt prison. I leaned my head back against the wall in defeat, straining to remain calm and tracing my index finger in the dirt of the floor, just for the normalcy of it. In a few hours, I would be in the Clearing. The other werewolves would be gathered around, waiting for the fight with gruesome, cruel anticipation. I would be a wolf, waiting in the middle for my pack leader, waiting for my exile and, most likely, my death.

I shivered. Instinctively, I would do nothing. I would let my loyalty and instincts towards my pack leader take over my mind and body and I would let him kill me. I would hardly even fight back. Even if I did, he would destroy me. Just like everyone else he had challenged.

Just then, the door opened revealing a man standing before a background showing the city, lanterns causing the scene to glow with an eerie red. Red. Like blood. I gulped and began walking, the man following, watching me carefully. Through the tunnel into the Hall, and then down the path leading to the Clearing. The guard pushed me roughly into the middle of the circle of Fenrir's followers, all half-hidden in the shadows of the trees surrounding the circle of dusky, dewy grass.

Out of the shadows directly in front of me came one of my worst nightmares. Fenrir Greyback appeared, the guard pushed me painfully to my knees. Fenrir walked steadily over, squatting in front of me, glinting knife in his hand.

"Ever been poisoned by silver, traitor?" My eyes widened as he realized what the knife was. Fenrir brought his arm up, ready to strike. I had only seconds to register the movement before I screamed in pain. Eyes closed tightly, I screamed. Pain lengthened by my transformation, screams turning to howls and yelps and the laughter of others turning to howls of joy.

"Where could he be?" Tonks looked around frantically for any sign of Remus, "Why would he just leave?" Harry stood by grimly, watching Tonks' progress as she shuffled through papers on the kitchen table. Suddenly, Tonks turned to him, grabbing the front of his T-shirt.

"Harry! Help me! Don't you get it? He could be anywhere, and the full moon is in two days! He's been gone since yesterday; he needs his potion! He needs to be found!"

"Tonks, you need to relax. We won't find him if you're panicked."

"Don't you dare start sounding like auror training!" She shrieked, "Don't you understand, I love him! This is not time to be 'rational'" She paused. Harry looked at her calmly, smiling slightly, "Oh, you're right." Tonks released Harry, slumping into a chair, looking completely defeated.

"We should contact McGonagall. If it's for the order, she'll know." Harry said.

Professor McGonagall had been appointed as temporary head of the Order as well as the new Headmistress of Hogwarts with Snape as Deputy Headmaster. Most members of the Order were ready to keep McGonagall as their leader. Who else had been close enough to Dumbledore to take his place? Others wanted Harry, but Harry had made sure that their hopes were quickly squashed, he had only just joined. Besides, he hated leading people. He got enough attention already.

Tonks nodded, picked up a pinch of floo powder, threw it in the fire, inserted her head and shouted, "McGonagall, Hogwarts."

The night passed in a seemingly endless whirl of pain, howling and yelping. Slashing, bleeding, biting, snarling. It was all the wolf could seem to remember. But attacking his pack leader, his natural superior, would feel like tearing himself apart at the seams. It just couldn't be done. But at the same time, that annoying nagging voice was urging him to fight back, to preserve his life, feebly bringing up flashes of memories; of people and places to live for.

The wolf tried to run out of the circle of pack-mates, but no matter where he tried to escape from, it was no use. Even if a hole in the circle of wolves appeared, the whole clearing was encircled with wolfsbane. Suddenly, he felt a slash against his back. Not knowing who it was, he fought back. But he stopped quickly; it was his leader. He kept his head down, begging for forgiveness, but it did no good.

Finally, he couldn't take it, he swiped frantically at the leader. Now he couldn't stop. Silver was coursing through his veins, intoxicating his blood. With that one attack, he had given the nagging voice what it had wanted and it became more persistent. Confused, the wolf staggered, running toward his pack-leader only to stumble back just as quickly.

Then, in the middle of the confusion, something in his mind snapped, desperate for any solution, any way to get away from it all, the wolf bashed his head against the nearest tree. Dazed and unfocused, the wolf slumped. He looked up at the pearly white orb in the sky and howled. And with that he was unconscious.

Minerva was alarmed to see her fire suddenly turn green, but even more surprised when it was young Nymphadora's face she saw floating in the flames.

"Dora?" Minerva had refused to call Nymphadora by her last name while Nymphadora had refused to be called by her first name. Somehow, they had discovered the compromise of a nickname they could both agree on: Dora.

"Minerva. Remus is missing. Neither Harry or I know what happened to him or where he is." Dora said quickly, sounding fearful, eyes glittering with unshed tears.

"When did this happen?" Minerva demanded sharply, heart beating frantically.

"Yesterday. He's been gone since yesterday afternoon, or at least that's when we discovered he was gone."

I woke up, opening my eyes immediately, regretting it for both the blast of sunlight and the pain that throwing an arm up to try and block it caused.

"Good morning, little one." A voice whispered near, "How do you feel?" It wasn't until then that I realized my head was in someone's lap. Fenrir! My eyes widened as I struggled for freedom.

"Not quite yet, pup." He said, pulling me back down, smoothing my hair back, "It'll all be over soon, and then you'll be free. At this very moment, the silver is working it poison through your body. And soon, you'll be dead. But first, I have a little secret. Children. I need more children to raise into an army. Raids are being planned to slaughter parents and bring back children. And you'll be the only one who knows. Shame it won't matter once you're dead."

I groaned, face white. "Good-bye Remus Lupin." Fenrir left, dumping my aching body unceremoniously off his lap.

As he treaded the bloodstained ground, clouds of red dust clouded around him. He breathed in the musky smell of the remains of his victims, relishing the taste of the bloodstained air. He grinned, showing teeth filed to a point and dripping with blood. Last night had been a good transformation. Very good, indeed. Fenrir almost wished it hadn't ended.

He looked around at the debris and decay. The other's of his pack where sitting and talking together. Content and relishing in their comfort, some still feasting. Fenrir gazed around at the plain houses of the muggle/ wizarding town. Bodies lay everywhere; women, men. Dead. Children where crying, people were dying. It was Fenrir's fault. And he loved it.


	4. Plans and Transformations

Chapter 4: Plans and Transformations

"How could this have happened?" Minerva's face appeared as frail and crumpled as age-old parchment. Now that the initial shock had worn off, so had her severity. Now, she looked careworn and worried, "Remus was supposed to stay out of trouble. He's all Harry has left." Minerva whispered.

Now Tonks felt the tears being released, the cool salty liquid coursing down her face, shoulders heaving as she fought for breath. Gently, Harry eased her out of the fire place, taking her place in the conversation.

"Professor," he said grimly, "I think I have an idea."

The trio spent the following months searching for the right werewolf colony, Tonks and Harry taking turns to enter within each and find out, as subtly as possible, whether or not it was Fenrir's pack.

Finally, the day came.

"Professor!" Harry's voice sounded excitedly from Minerva's fireplace.

"Harry?" His obvious cheer confused her, he had been quiet and withdrawn ever since Remus had gone missing.

"We found it! We found Fenrir's pack: Itzal!"

And so, the plotting began.

I laid there for what seemed like forever, carefully controlling my breathing and waiting. I didn't know what I was waiting for. All I knew was that I wanted it to go away; all of it. The pain, the torture, everything. My muscles tensed instinctively at the sound of a twig snapping.

After a pause, a stag, beautiful and graceful, came out into the clearing. It stared at me for a while, its eyes a deep, almost black brown. Then, coming closer, it bowed its head down to me, nudging my face softly.

"Prongs?"

The three of them where gathered around the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. Minerva was staring at Harry, her gaze eerily steady. Tonks watched as Harry gazed back, not demanding or challenging, just acknowledging the eye contact.

Minerva broke the link first, sweeping her gaze over both of them, finally speaking, "Harry, you need to be an animal."

Harry looked up, startled; "Becoming an animagus takes... years. Remus doesn't have that long!"

Minerva seemed unperturbed, "Your father was an animagus, it runs in your blood. It'll be easy for you, and if you don't get it, we'll just transfigure you." Harry looked unconvinced, but neither was his expression defiant.

"Ok, but we have to hurry."

I groaned as the stag nudged me harder, obviously trying to get me onto his back. Of course, the antlers got in the way. I half smiled, half grimaced as I remembered how James used to complain about the added weight of antlers all the time: "It's like I have a bloody tree growing from my head!"

Summoning all the strength I had left, I reached my arm up, the stag lowering its body. Somehow I managed to pull my arm over his neck and hoist up the rest of my body. I relaxed into my familiar position, the amount of times I had been carried back to the shack after transformation was countless. It just didn't make sense. Prongs?

That was my last thought before the jarring pain of the stag jumping into a hard gallop knocked me out, a small gasp forced passed my lips.

Harry couldn't believe that it had taken him only two days to become an animagus. By the third day, he could already run in his new form. Just in time. That night was full moon.

He was proud, though admittedly only slightly surprised that he was a stag. He wondered if his father had also marveled at the unaccustomed weight on his head, or about the fact that even though it hadn't occurred to him before, four legs just wasn't his thing.

But Remus had to be saved. And so, Harry found himself streaking through a random countryside as fast as he could, but still determined to pace himself. Frustrated, Harry couldn't help but think desperately that he wasn't going fast enough. It was already morning by the time he reached the edge of the forest Fenrir had made his home.

With a lurch, Harry realized that he had no idea where in the forest Remus would be. Although he knew where the actual village was, after a full moon, Remus might be anywhere else. Harry stood still at the sudden sound of laughter. Flicking his ears, he gained from the dwindling of the sound that the source was walking away from him slowly. Much like a group of people leaving a party. Harry followed the voices, staying as quiet as he could. Of all the times to be an animal with hooves.

Harry stopped, heart pumping furiously. He had almost walked right into a clearing; into the open without checking if anyone was there to see. Looking around, he saw no one. He stepped forward. A twig snapped under him and he stopped. Just then, he saw movement coming from the clearing. It was then that he noticed the bleeding figure lying in the grass. Cautiously, he walked over to it.

His mind reeled when he finally recognized the face. It was Remus. He didn't break pace, forcibly remaining calm. Sympathy making him feel like his very being was on fire, Harry nudged Remus, feeling like he would cry. Feebly, he wondered if deer could cry.

Remus groaned, but Harry simply nudged him again, more urgently this time. Finally Remus got on his back. Harry broke into a gallop, feeling the thing he had been dreading all day, the prickling of someone watching them.

Tonks sat in the kitchen drinking tea with Minerva, watching the clock. So far, they had been up all night and Tonks planned to keep it that way, at least where she was concerned. There would be no sleeping on her part until Remus was back in his own bed ready to heal.


	5. Escape

Chapter 5: Escape

Harry ran as fast as was possible without pitching Remus right off his back. Behind him, he could hear soft, padding footsteps. With a twitch of his ears, he had all the information he needed to know that they were the footsteps of those residing in perilous Itzal's Den. They were human, though irregularly soft, and there were a lot of them Harry's heart raced as their pursuers closed in. Every turn around a tree, every jump over a bush, lessened their precious time.

Finally, Harry could tell that the werewolves had caught up with them. Harry heard the twanging of a bow and, seconds later, the whoosh of an arrow. Harry dodged and ducked frantically, trees and arrows whooshing past, blurring into each other, both dangerous obstacles in the way of the chase. Despite the prospect of being caught, wounded, or even killed, Harry's worst fear was the loss of weight on his back that signaled that Remus was still there. If Remus fell off, all would have been in vain.

Harry jumped and swerved, avoiding both a tree and clump of bracken all at once, losing valuable time as he passed the golden leaves that he couldn't even consider beautiful, just as a factor against him, blocking his vision. His concentration was broken by a sound that pierced horror through his heart like a javelin bent on destroying reality as he knew it. It was a scream. Then agony held within that one sound was so intense, Harry could hardly bear it. With a jolt, he realized it was Remus, no one else could possibly have been that close to Harry's ear.

_No! _And with that thought, he put all his energy, all of his heart and breathe into a surge of speed he hadn't even thought possible. And with that, they broke through the thinning trees of the forest, leaving the werewolves behind.

Tonks glanced anxiously at the clock; 7:00. "Where could they be?" She looked over to Minerva, but, to her surprise, the other woman was asleep. Tonks marveled at this. Though is seemed childish, she admitted now that she never thought of her teachers, especially Minerva McGonagall, ever sleeping. They seemed to always be up, ready to spot and put an end to trouble. Sure, they were in nightgowns or pajamas, but they were still awake at the time. It seemed odd that such a tight, strict person could do something so peaceful.

Tonks' mind peacefully wandered from the sleeping figure next to her to the crickets chirping outside. _Outside. _Remus was outside. With a sudden emptying lurch of grief, Tonks returned her thoughts to Remus. Outside she heard a noise. It sounded familiar, but she couldn't quite place it. A soft, dragging sound, and what sounded like... yes, footsteps, but broken, labored, and at an odd, faltering pace. Tonks jumped out of her seat, rushing to the door, heart jumping at the sound of a muffled, pained, groaning scream.

Adrenaline died down, and Harry found himself stopping, desperately trying to breathe, ears strained for any sound signaling pursuit. Harry gasped and continued running. It was already well past noon. How long had he rested for? How much longer did Remus have to live with the arrow wound? Thoughts raced through his head, spinning around almost visibly, making him dizzy and nauseous with confusion and anxiety. The sun moved slowly westward as time passed and Harry lost speed due to exhaustion.

Dusk came, darkening to night and finally, Harry came to Grimmauld Place. He trotted feebly towards Number 12, body weighed down by the need for sleep. With a shuddering gasp, Harry collapsed, transforming as his exhausted body was drained of all power. Remus let out a small cry as he fell to the ground. Still, Harry went on, slinging as much of Remus' weight as was possible onto his back. He trudged on, dragging himself and Remus past house after house.

Finally, he reached the house, stumbling on his way up the walk. Remus cried out at the sudden jolt. Just then, the door opened, letting out light and a pink, short-haired woman who rushed out to them, somehow managing to catch them both, calling for Minerva to help her. McGonagall rushed out a few minutes later, helping Harry up as Harry embraced the darkness that relieved him of his burden.

I woke up in a bed to a room filled with bright, shimmering sunlight. Above me was a face I couldn't make out, though my tired, pain-dazed eyes searched for something, anything that would help my mind recognize the being above me. Finally, through the blur and blinding sunlight, I noticed shocking pink.

"Tonks?" I whispered, throat dry and hoarse from screaming, weak from pain and exhaustion.

"Remus. How are you feeling?" I paused, searching for words, watching as my vision cleared, finally becoming one image. Her face was so beautiful. I had no idea how much I had missed her until now.

"I'm... fine." I held her hand, the sun warming up the scene as if it couldn't help but be part of something so tender, so loving. Tonks smiled, but then it faltered.

"Harry's completely drained. He's awake, but constantly exhausted and he has trouble performing even the simplest of magic. We're worried about him."

"Harry?" I was confused, "He's here? What hap-" I cut myself off, looking up at Tonks with sudden comprehension, "Harry... the... stag?" Tonks nodded. I bolted upright.

"I need to see him!" Tonks placed her hands on my shoulders, but I struggled desperately. Then, a new voice entered the room.

"Remus! Relax! You need to Relax!" Someone else pushed me down firmly.

"M-madam Pomfrey? You don't understand! Harry! I need to see Harry!" Once again, a voice came from the doorway, blocked from my vision now by both Madam Pomfrey and Tonks. But this time, the voice was soothing, though tired and worn.

"I'm here Remus," Harry came into view and knelt by the bed, "It's okay."

Fighting down a lump in my throat and any doubts I was having, I hugged him. I felt him tense under me, then relax. "The stag was in my pack." I leaned back to see his face. Looking into his eyes I could see a sense of sadness as well as a fierce pride.

Minerva stared at me in horror, "You're sure this is Fenrir's plan?"

I had just finished telling her all that had happened, all that I had found out, "Yes," I replied, "And I wouldn't dare assume that he hadn't already begun." I glanced over at Harry, his face was pale, but hard as he absorbed this information. Tonks looked worried and vulnerable in her shock. We had to do something, but what? What could possibly stop a legion of werewolves most likely supported by Death Eaters and led by perhaps one of the most insane of Voldemort's supporters: Fenrir Greyback?


	6. Dreadful News

A/N: Here it is, finally. I decided to just write through my writer's block. The news article isn't very convincing, and the chapter title's really crappy, but please bear with me. Anyway, please enjoy!

The four of us had met with the Order earlier that evening. Now, we were sitting around the kitchen table, unable to think of anything to say. The meeting had been everything but helpful. Not only did any member have a clue as to what they should do about the werewolve's plans, but all of them also seemed to willingly avoid any discussion of it, as if in denial. Except Bill. I could see the emotional mark of one of Fenrir's victims.

As I had re-accounted his story during the meeting, Bill's heavily scarred face had been a showcase for anger, horror, and disgust. Fleur too had noticed, placing a comforting arm around his waist. I had smiled at the sight of the golden wedding band glinting on her finger and glanced over at Tonks who smiled at me.

But that was then. And now, Tonks' face was grave as was everyone else's. I gazed around at them, preparing to speak. I didn't know what I would say, but the silence was unbearable. Just as I opened his mouth and took a breath, I was cut off by the sound of a door creaking open. I turned in my seat to see, framed in the doorway, Bill Weasley.

"Hi," he said awkwardly, slowly making his way into the room and closing the door, "I couldn't help but notice that we didn't really get much done earlier." He paused to look around. Perhaps taking encouragement from their silence, seeing that no one was going to override him, Bill's voice became stronger as he continued.

"And I think that the innocent people out there deserve better than that. We all meet so that we can protect them, all of them, against Voldemort. Shouldn't that include Fenrir? A lesser evil perhaps, but an evil still. And if you say no to that, can you even try to argue that Fenrir would have the courage or power to even think of committing this crime if not for Voldemort rising and the fact that Fenrir himself is a Death Eater?"

Bill's already flushed faced, grew redder as he noticed that everyone was still watching him, as if he thought he had gotten carried away. As his gaze landed on me, I smiled softly, amused, but still reassuring him. "Bill, we already agree with you. As a matter of fact, that is why we have remained in this room. I guess you came to the right place."

McGonagall conjured up a chair. "Have a seat Bill" Tonks giggled slightly, Harry was smirking. Bill seemed disbelieving of how carried away he had gotten and even more disbelieving of the fact that he was being offered a seat by the people he had most likely thought would be insulted by his outburst.

"We need to think quick about what we should do about this." Harry's face was grave as he took something out of the mouth of an owl that had just arrived, "Fenrir's already begun carrying out his plan." Harry slapped a copy of the Daily Prophet down on the table. Even Minerva gasped at the headline page. I bit my lip, looking over at Tonks who had her hand over her mouth before continuing to read the article.

Disaster Finds Shady Glen

Shady Glen, a small village located about ten miles from the River Otter in Devon, was found in ruins yesterday by a shocked and frightened Mr. Reginald Tyler, a local muggle milkman, who immediately reported the destruction to the authorities at the please-men headquarters located in a nearby town. Members of the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol (MLEP) apparated to the area to investigate as soon as they were informed of this horrific event.

A small investigation, that was merely policy, was preformed. However, it was immediately obvious that the cause could be nothing but a werewolf attack. Huge wolf prints could be found milling around the bodies of the dead. Houses were destroyed, clawed into pieces, glass smashed in.

As members of the MLEP observed the sickening scene, they noticed something odd. Although there were many dead, none of the bodies were that of children.

Why were children spared? Where are the children of the dead now? What will the future hold for them? All these questions, and many more, remain unanswered.

More on page A7

Bill was the first to look up from the article, his face deathly white. "River Otter," he stuttered, "Ten miles from River Otter. That's just near the Burrow!" Harry looked up, concern in his eyes. The Weasleys, all but Bill, had stayed home, not yet having returned to Grimmauld Place. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley still refused to let Ron join and Fred and George hadn't joined yet, though they planned on doing so soon. Therefore, Arthur and Molly had stayed home with their children for the first few weeks of summer vacation.

"We should firecall to make sure everyone's okay," Harry said, placing a hand on Bill's shoulder, "I'm sure nothing's happened to them, Bill." Harry tried to reassure him, comforting Bill although he too looked worried for his friend. I knew Harry considered all the Weasleys a huge part of his mismatched family. Actually, they were the majority. I had the feeling that I was the only one besides the Weasleys that Harry considered family, except maybe Hermione.

I moved over to the fireplace, handing Bill the jar of Floo Powder. I backed away, making way for him and Harry, who, unsurprisingly, felt no qualms about joining Bill.

I watched, my worry growing to fear when I saw the rather white face of Molly Weasley appear in the fireplace.

"Oh, Bill, Harry!" she exclaimed, looking ready to pitch herself into the fire and hug her son, as well as the seventeen-year-old boy next to him. "Have you seen the news, is it in the news yet?"

"Yes, I saw, is everyone over there okay?" Bill inquired, attempting to keep his voice calm. Harry simply nodded, letting Bill ask the questions.

"Yes, we're all fine. But, we're still quite shocked. We kept hoping you were still at headquarters. It's just that it was so close." She craned her neck, "Is that you Remus?"

I stepped forward, "Yes, I'm here Molly."

"Remus, did you have any idea this would happen?"

"No," I replied quietly, "not until it was much too late."


End file.
